Chapter 7: Chapter 7

She jumps up from the grand piano, equally bewildered.

Akin looks away just quick enough to confirm she’s alone in the music room.

The front entrance is bare, with space for a teacher’s stroll, and the piano occupies a large corner. An assortment of percussion instruments accompanies the small group of desks and chairs.

“Akin,” she repeats, recovering slowly. “Akin…”

Comprehension fails articulation.

“I know,” he whispers.

He takes all of her in with a slow crawl. Seamless strands of ink-black hair outline her elfin frame, the bottom left free, and the top tied neatly to the back, held together by navy ribbon.

All thought and strategy abandon him in an instant, his plan thwarted by the sight of her.

Opal gathers her composure, her sense trickling in.

“Ah…this is why Dana wanted to know where I’d be.” She risks a glance at him. “You were looking for me?”

Nerves accumulating in Akin’s belly, he only manages a nod.

Opal looks away, angst-ridden.

“Well.” Still evading eye contact. “Did you come here just to stare?”

Akin finally blinks, the burn easing from his eyes. “Yes—no—I did not come to stare at you like a creep.” An awkward laugh stumbles out of his mouth, drawn-out and wobbly. “I just…I needed to see you.”

Her gaze hovers above the ground, her arms billowing from her sides. “Well…you’ve seen me.”

A strange sense of relief fans his lips out into a smile. “Still icy, I see.”

“And I only see an idiot,” she says on instinct.

They both look at each other. A tense moment passes before they burst into a laughing fit.

She covers her smile with her hand. “I see you have not changed—not completely.”

He pulls a face. “Is that your way of you saying I’m still an idiot?”

She lowers her hand, exposing a room-grabbing smile. “I mean…you’re still ~Akin~, that snort-nosed kid that used to follow me like a shadow. I can see through all that pomp and brawn.”

Akin smirks, crossing his arms to flex his muscles. “You think I’m brawny?”

Her face mantles with rich emotion, the tips of her ears cherry-red. “No—uh,” she stammers. “I mean, you’ve grown—a lot. Changed…a lot.”

Akin looks at his shoes, shrugging. “I’m still that scrawny, snot-nosed kid at heart.”

Opal spins around to go settle back on the cushioned bench behind the piano. She looks at him expectantly and her eyes give him a silent invitation, gesturing to the space. Akin complies and takes his place at her side.

“So, what extinction-level event occurred that sent star boy Akin knocking at my door?”

Akin’s mouth falls open with melodrama. “Okay, why do people keep calling me that? I’m not Alister.”

“But you run with his elite circles,” she says with a dramatic hand sway. “So…after like seven years of avoiding each other, why are you approaching me now?”

“I never avoided you,” he says firmly, voice devoid of play. “I reached out.”

Opal glances away, guilty. “I know.”

She meets his gaze with the same firmness in her eyes. “Then you gave up on me.”

“Never,” he says resolutely. “I figured you needed time, I needed time, the others needed time which turned into a lifetime.”

Opal sighs sullenly. “I think we all knew that it was the only way to avoid breaking oaths. It was better—safer—to stay apart. We’re too dangerous together.”

Akin disagrees. “I think we are more~ in~ danger when we’re apart.”

Unease tiptoes up her spine. “Akin, why are you here?”

“Later,” he dismisses. He nudges her shoulder with his. “For now, I want to hear you play.”

He assumes a Bridgertonesque accent. “Please, Lady Opal, do not deprive me of such a delight.”

Opal gives him the side-eye but complies, her posture fixed in a queenly stance.

She inhales a deep breath, and as she releases, another life form takes her place.

She begins to play, elegant fingers spanning the keys with a fluid mastery. Every note of that heavenly tone is woven with such beauty.

By virtue of these piano keys, her soul becomes ever more in key. The sound is a work of art upon which the soul is invited to tell its tale to the souls of others in a language that predates words.

Mesmerized, Akin’s eyes glide between her fingers and her relaxed face, so at peace.

She concludes with a self-satisfied smile, hands drawing to her lap.

“So, what do you think? Hopefully, much has improved since the last time you heard me play.”

Akin’s eyes meet with hers, utterly transfixed.

“You’re phenomenal, always have been. And you will be even greater.”

Flustered, Opal grins, pushing his face away from hers. “You really have not changed, still too fawning.”

He’s hunched over, elbows planted on his thighs, looking up at her.

“I’ve watched some of your games,” she confesses.

He perks up, brightened by the admission. “You have?”

“Indirectly. Dana’s sister is on the cheer squad, so when I hang with her, we sometimes support her sister.” She looks down at him, tangibly impressed. “Your talent has become your name…you’ve gotten ~really~ good.”

He shirks off the praise with a humble shrug. “Brett’s better.”

“Now, what have I said about being modest?”

“It will get you nowhere.”

She grins again.

“So you remember?” She nods heartily. “Good. You’re a remarkable player, Akin, don’t downplay that.”

Her face grows serious. “I’m sure we don’t have long, so are you ready to talk now?”

Akin frees a despondent sigh, knowing the truth of his arrival will only result in heartache.

“Keila.”

Opal’s eyes dim immediately, her expression as cold as her porcelain skin. “Tragic thing.”

“Don’t pretend,” he says tiredly.

“Pardon?”

Another laborious sigh. “Keila…missing.”

“Yes, the news, newspapers, and the neighborhood search parties will not let me forget that she’s gone missing.”

A spark of anger. “How can you speak about it so heartlessly?”

“Should I be crying?” she retorts. “I don’t parade my feelings to make others feel better.”

“It’s not about that.” All tenderness is stripped from his tone. “It’s about the circumstances of her disappearance, mirroring Erin’s.”

Opal jumps from her seat like she’s been burned. “We are not about to break the first law, Akin.”

She rounds the piano to fetch her school bag.

“It’s just a coincidence—it’s not like there’s proof of her going into the woods. There’s about a hundred different alternatives.”

“And only one matters.”

He bolts up to obstruct her path.

“Mia was right—”

“Mia,” she spews her name like it’s a rancid taste in her mouth. “What does she have to do with this?”

Her eyes widen.

“Have you guys been ~talking~?”

“No.” Half-amused by her shock. “She ambushed me after my match to tell me what I’m telling you. ~He~—”

Opal slams her hands against her ears like a child, fear undermining maturity. “~No~,” she exclaims in a semi-scream. “You will not say his name. ~We are done here~.”

Saved by the bell—it rings—Opal flees like a bat out of hell.

For the rest of the school day, Opal’s body might be bound to the earth, but her spirit is afar.

When the day is done, Opal’s dad is waiting in the parking lot, in the same spot every time, as he has for years. She drops her bag in the trunk before she climbs in the passenger seat, still in a daze.

“There’s my ~Sakura~,” he says, eyes thinning while his smile broadens.

Opal remains silent.

Worry floods his system. Shuchang tilts his head in search of her gaze. “Opal?”

Opal sniffs, eyelids fluttering. She looks forward then back at him, waking up. “I’m fine, bàba. Just lost in thought.”

“Worried about your solo performance?”

She has even forgotten about that. She nods, smiling faintly. “Just want to make sure everything goes perfectly.”

“It will, because you are.”

He starts the car and pulls away smoothly, making his way out of the lot and to the main road.

The drive is fraught with peculiar tension, for its origin is unexplained.

Shuchang passes occasional glances at his disquieted daughter, who has always been sparse with words. A quietude that belies a rare wisdom for her age. But today, this moment, is vastly different.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“So, you are still lucid?”

She doesn’t respond. Soon, a giant “M” looms in the distance.

“Bàba,” she says reproachfully. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he chirps. “When was the last time you had something good to eat? Our tummies will rot from all that seaweed salad your mother has been feeding us.”

Opal leans back, defeated. “The calories…”

“Will be worth it.”

He leads the car into the drive-through; he gets himself a Big Mac meal. Opal orders medium McNuggets and small fries with a milkshake. When the bag is transferred, its mouth-watering smell overwhelms the car.

Shuchang makes a pit stop at the lone pier. He parks the car before the embankment, and they both depart with their food in hand.

They saunter to the pier that stretches out onto the surface of the lake like a wooden narrow arm. When they reach the cusp of the end, Shuchang plops down, prompting his daughter to do the same.

He doesn’t lecture her or try to ferret out information, he merely takes out his burger and begins to eat.

Opal does the same, comforted by the illusion of safety. She nibbles on her fries, staring out at the placid expanse of glassy waters. The reflection of the cloudless sky varnished into its surface.

“Akin spoke to me today.”

Shuchang looks at her with fish eyes, cheeks bloated with food.

Opal stifles a smile. “That’s probably how I looked, too.”

He swallows. “Odd.”

She frowns at his response. “Why odd?”

“You two haven’t spoken in years, ~zhè hěn qíguài.~” He puts the half-eaten burger in its container for a moment. “Also because his mother and all the others met up for lunch the other day. Odd.”

The soggy food nearly slips from her mouth. “Did Mom go?”

He nods. “I see she didn’t tell you.”

“Of course not,” she says acidly. She looks at him, her eyes softening. “Do you know what they spoke about?”

“The white-haired girl, I can never remember her name.”

“Keila,” she informs him in a whisper. “Keila Venus.”

“The missing girl, your old friend?”

She nods grimly. “One of them, yes. Once. We should go. I have a lot of homework to finish.”

She gets up first to lend him a hand. Though he doesn’t need it, he takes it anyway.

***

Opal opens the front door, sipping on her strawberry milkshake.

“I should warn you.”

“Opal!”

She freezes, then her eyes flick up to look at her father’s rueful expression. She wheels around on her heels. Her older sister stands in the archway of the living room.

“Sanako,” she says dryly.

Sanako squeals and runs up to them, tangling her arms around her. Opal returns her hug obligatorily, holding onto her dainty frame until she eventually lets her go. She pulls her away by the shoulders to scan her exaggeratedly.

“~Wow~, almost a woman.”

“~Sanako~,” their father chides.

“What? Being a late bloomer is nothing to be ashamed of,” she says, forcing Opal under her arm for a side hug. “I would love to go back in time where I was as flat-chested as her. A time of no back pain.”

Opal grimaces, insecurities welling up in her anew.

Sanako greets their father and Opal heads for the kitchen to question their mother.

“Ma.” She jams her thumb behind her. “What’s ~she ~doing here? I thought you said she wasn’t coming down this year?”

“She couldn’t make it for the holidays because she’s so busy,” their mother explains, her voice abounding in pride. “So she took some time off to visit us now. So be nice. Your sister has missed you.”

“I’ll be in my room.”

“Opal.”

She’s already gone.

***

“That wasn’t the deal.”

“Are you scared, baby girl?”

“You want me to go out to ~Edgemond. ~Edgemond~.~ I’ve never been on that side of town, nor was I ever planning to.”

“Sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone,” he says, with a voice like a snake if it could talk. “Do you want me to be real with you?”

“~Please~,” she says urgently.

“Cops been sniffing around our usual joints and corners—we might have a rat problem, if you know what I mean.

“Big boss wants to run all sales and transactions through the headquarters to vet every patron of his ~illustrious~ business for himself.”

Desperate, she yields. “Fine, where do I go?”

“I’ll send you the location. I can always pick you up from—”

“No, never,” she whispers feverishly. “I will come to you, okay?”

“Opal.”

Her sister enters her bedroom.

She gasps, twirling around in the en suite to face the bathroom door.

“I have to go,” she murmurs before ending the call.

The door swings open without her consent, and Sanako pokes her head inside.

“Dinner is ready.”

Her eyes dart to the phone. Opal hides it behind her back.

“Why are you making calls in the bathroom?”

“You looking for a job?” Opal asks sarcastically, storming past her. “If not, then stay out of my business.”

They both recede from the corridor of the one-story home, low-ceilinged but spacious, spread across a sweeping property.

In the dining room of an English countryside-style home, the bejeweled branch chandelier is alight. The bespoke table by Whetstone Oak is surrounded by chairs dressed in Dedar velvet.

Everyone takes their seat, dishing their portions from the myriad of choices.

“So, how’s studying going?” her mother asks.

Sanako beams, going on a tirade about studying for her master’s in neurosciences at Oxford while still being a practicing doctor.

Opal’s food remains untouched as she watches her mother fawn over her accomplished sister, the paragon of perfection; hardworking, successful, and soon to be a wife.

Opal glares at the huge rock on Sanako’s finger.~ Clearly overcompensating~, she thinks. ~Her fiancé is as arrogant as she is. At least he is absent.~

“What about you, sis?” Sanako asks, lifting a string of veggie noodles with chopsticks. “What have you been up to?”

Not even seeing the point, she shrugs. “Under-achieving, apparently.”

“Opal came second place for the mathelon at the end of last year,” her father announces, pride prevalent in his eyes as he offers her a kind smile.

Sanako pauses her eating to applaud.

“That’s amazing. I remember when I did those. I stopped at my final year so I could give the other kids a chance to win for once.”

Daiyu laughs loudly.

Opal sours further, envy like an irremediable poison.

***

After school, Opal books a lift with a ride-hailing company to the edge of Braidwood-Edgemond, also known as the Badlands.

The ride doesn’t take her all the way there, only halfway and she walks for the remainder. Guided by GPS, she travels on the derelict sidewalk, harassed by car honks, cat-calling, and dirty looks. Eventually, she reaches her destination.

The “headquarters” is a den of thieves and scoundrels. The moment she walks in, she’s an anomaly among the masses of black-clad thugs and ruffians.

Most of them are covered with sleeves of tattoos, faces pierced by silver, radiating danger and intrigue.

She, meanwhile, is dressed in a dark green, embroidered Milano crop top, short-sleeved with layered gold necklaces from Shein, paired with shirred, high-waisted pants and sneakers.

“Lost?”

A scarecrow of a man appears before her, tall and lanky.

She steels her resolve. “I’m looking for Eli.”

“The pup speaks,” another sneers, bigger than him, his footsteps heavy. “Picked up another stray, Longclaw?”

He bops his pencil-thin brows. “I think I’ll keep her.”

Startled, Opal tries to move past them, but a beefy hand seizes her bicep. A flash of white—someone bull-rushes him, nearly knocking the guy to the ground. Eli magically appears to steer her away from harm.

“Eli.”

“You really had to come here dressed like walking bait?” Umber-brown eyes check her for any wounds. “Looking like a green and white candy cane.”

“I never wanted to be here.”

“Boss’s rules, not mine.”

He jerks his chin. Opal swivels to see the crowd of black and leather amassing around two individuals. The bigger man challenges the other—a glimpse of white.

Out of deference or fear, the bulky man stands down like an omega wolf bowing to its Alpha, then huffs and marches away like a child after a beating.

Malachite-green eyes capture her gaze. Opal nearly faints.

Aries shoves his way through the crowd to reach her, everyone else giving way to him as if pushed back by an invisible force.

Opal moves dazedly to meet him halfway, Eli following behind her, perplexed.

“What are you doing here?” they say simultaneously.

“Sorry, princess, but that’s my line.”

Aries stands tall in an all-black outfit, shrouded by a weathered white leather jacket with black panels. Everyone around him fades out like background characters to his story, one big entourage that adorns him like accessories.

“You know him?” Eli asks, emerging in her periphery.

“Aries,” she answers, as if it leaves no questions. Opal looks at Eli to gesture to a hard-faced Aries. “And who is he to you?”

“To us,” Eli corrects, throwing a hand at their surroundings. “He’s our leader.”